


Fight for Life

by ivanna



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1495000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanna/pseuds/ivanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the ranch is attacked, Vin fights for Chris’ life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight for Life

**Author's Note:**

> The events of the fic take place between “Mea Culpa” and “Renunciation”.  
> Many thanks to Tarlan for beta reading.

“Damn it to hell,” Vin swore and kicked a stool out of his way as he stormed out of the kitchen to the den. The clock on a wall read 9 p.m. and Chris was still at work. Travis had convened an urgent meeting and it looked like things were pretty bad. Vin wasn’t really surprised because the case Team 7 was working on had gone wrong from the start, but that did nothing to help him accept the spoiling of his plans for this evening. Not only were his work hours crazy and frustrating because of that damn case but he was also deprived of the pleasure of quiet evenings at home. He missed curling and cuddling with Chris on the wide leather couch at the den in the evenings after work. They would watch TV or discuss the daily events or just share the silence – it was the best time of the day for Vin. Not even the hot and sweaty sex that followed late in the night or early in the morning could compensate for that loss. Sex was a great and important part of their relationship, but only a part. When they were just lying together holding each other in their arms, their bond was as strong as ever, and they were happy, content and whole as if they had known each other and had belonged to each other for eternity. However they had spent their evenings at work for the last few days and when they finally got home they had the strength only to strip off and get into bed for sleep. Today they had planned to get home earlier for some much needed rest but at the last moment Travis had called that damned meeting and Vin had gone home alone. He had cooked the dinner and after that paced their ranch house, glancing at the clock now and then. 

Vin entered the den and collapsed onto the couch. After rummaging on the coffee table he found the remote and switched on the TV. He watched the news, then a weather forecast, then a stupid show. He wasn’t sure that any of the info from TV had registered in his mind, and more likely he was watching TV like a monkey watched moving pictures, but at the same time he was keenly aware of any sound outside the house, craving to hear the approaching car. From time to time he cast a look at his cell lying on a coffee table but no way could he call Chris during a meeting. Finally he muted the TV, lay on the couch and drifted asleep. 

Something awakened him, and he was instantly alert. He heard the roar of an engine and the rustle of tires on gravel on the driveway. That wasn’t Chris’ RAM and Vin tensed, but then he remembered that the RAM was in for a service and Chris had rented another car for a few days. The car stopped, a door slammed, and so familiar footsteps approached the front door. Vin listened as the door opened and Chris entered the house, quietly closed the door, put his briefcase on the floor and his keys on the small table in a hall before heading toward the den. 

“Hey, Cowboy,” Vin drawled when Chris’ silhouette appeared in the doorway.

“Hey yourself. You didn't have to wait up for me.”

Chris tiredly lowered himself onto the couch and Vin moved aside, giving him a space. 

“What time is it?” Vin asked, ignoring Chris’ remark.

Chris glanced at his silver watch. “Almost midnight.”

“Hell. What was that meeting about?”

“Nothing good. There's a leak in the data of the ATF agents.”

“Damn. Is that connected with our case?”

“Don’t know. Maybe. They’re working on it.”

Chris threw back his head and tried to work out the stiff muscles of his neck.

“Lemme,” Vin purred.

He helped Chris to strip off his jacket and shirt, then slipped behind Chris and put his hands on Chris’ shoulders. His slim but strong fingers dug into the tense muscles, massaging them and easing the knots. Chris moaned and leaned forward, giving Vin more space. 

“Keep doing that and I’ll fall asleep right here,” Chris mumbled finally relaxed.

“Oh no, dinner first. C’mon, get your ass up here.”

Vin easily slipped off the couch and headed to the kitchen, Chris followed him far less gracefully. Vin quickly served dinner and they ate in comfortable silence. Leaving the dishes for tomorrow, they set the alarm and went to bed. They fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

7777777

The wake-up call heralded the start of a new day. Vin blindly reached out and switched the alarm clock off, then cracked open his eyes and yawned loudly. Noticing that Chris showed no intention of waking up, he kicked him with his leg under the blanket and drawled, “Time to get up.”

“I’m too old for sleeping only a couple of hours per night,” Chris mumbled, his face buried in the pillow. 

Vin’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and the lop-sided grin curled his lips. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and jerked it off Chris, revealing his long naked body. Chris yelped in surprise. 

“Doesn't look so old,” Vin drawled, eyeing the sight before him. 

He leaned in closer and ran the tip of his tongue down Chris’ spine.

“Vin…” Chris moaned, his voice held a hint of warning but Vin ignored it. 

“Turn over,” he ordered hoarsely, and Chris obeyed.

Vin took him into his mouth and sucked hard. Chris’ hips bucked involuntary and his hardness almost choked Vin. Vin pulled slightly back and slapped Chris’ thigh, ordering him to behave, then continued to suck him. Chris moaned, his fingers gripping the sheets. He tried to retain control over his body but failed under Vin’s skilful assault, and too soon he was shooting his seed into Vin’s greedy mouth. Vin milked him dry, then pulled away and flipped Chris over onto his stomach. Chris was still feeling the aftermath of his orgasm when Vin quickly prepared him and entered his body. Vin was overexcited by sucking Chris, and the hot tightness of Chris’ body overwhelmed him. He thrust frantically into Chris a few times and then he came hard, crying out Chris’ name. 

They were lying on the crumpled sheets panting hard, their bodies still entwined. Finally, Chris croaked, “Damn, you were wild.” 

“Wanted to catch up on yesterday’s plans.”

“We’re late for work now.”

“Don’t care.”

“I’m your boss and I order you to get up.”

“Didn’t look too bossy a while ago thrashing beneath me.”

Vin clearly enjoyed himself. Chris tried to slap his ass, but Vin wriggled and jumped out of bed.

“Do you want to start all over, Larabee?” 

Chris forced himself to turn his eyes away from Vin’s perfect body standing before him.

“Damn, Tanner, stop it!”

Vin laughed and disappeared in the bathroom. Chris shook his head, once again marveling at the miracle named Vin Tanner that had come into his life.

They quickly completed their morning tasks and half an hour later were ready to go at work. Chris took his briefcase and keys and went outside; Vin paused in the hall trying to brush off a stain on the sleeve of his jacket. 

Chris headed to the rented car. Vin had offered him a ride together in his jeep but Chris couldn’t bring himself to trust the battered vehicle. He unlocked the car’s door and got inside. After placing the briefcase on the passenger seat, he turned the ignition on. The engine started with an odd sound. Before his mind realized what that sound meant, his instincts and training took over. He jumped out of the car and ran as fast as he could. Three seconds later the car exploded. An invisible hand lifted Chris into the air and hurled him to the ground, a wave of flame licked his body, but he no longer felt anything. 

“CHRIS!!!” the wild inhuman cry burst out from Vin’s chest. He rushed to Chris, who was lying a few yards away from the burning car. In a split second he was next to Chris and leaned over him, and then a shot rang out. A sharp pain pierced Vin’s thigh, and the power of the shot threw him onto Chris’ body. He forced himself to lie still, he didn’t move or even breathe. The assassin was close; he knew it, felt his eyes and the aim of his gun at his back. Then he heard approaching steps. Trying to keep the muscles of his back perfectly still, he moved the hand trapped between his and Chris’ bodies. He slipped his fingers beneath Chris’ jacket and found the holster clipped to Chris’ belt. He pulled out the ‘Beretta’ and prepared it to fire.

The assassin stood over him, Vin sensed him and knew when the moment was right. In one smooth movement he rolled over, aimed the ‘Beretta’ and fired. The bullet hit its mark and the assassin fell down, his face was a bloody mess. Vin wasted no time looking at him, he was sure there were more assassins waiting to finish their job. He tucked the ‘Beretta’ into the belt of his jeans and tried to get up. His wounded leg gave up, and he fell on the ground. Having no choice, he wrapped his arms around Chris’ torso and crawled, pushing himself forward with his good leg and dragging Chris’ limp body along. When he was lying on Chris he felt Chris was alive, sensed his light breathing, but he'd had no time or chance to examine Chris’ injures as first of all he had to get Chris to safety. Vin clenched his teeth, fighting the pain and forcing himself to move as fast as possible. His thigh was bleeding bad, and the trail of blood had marked his path. His back hit the steps of the front porch, and he pushed himself and Chris up. Overcoming the steps had felt like an eternity and took all his strength, but finally he was at the front door. He reached with his hand for the doorhandle, and at that moment the gunfire began. Bullets were flying around tearing pieces of wood and plaster, and smashing glass. Vin tightened his hold on Chris and in one last effort he burst inside and slammed the door shut. Keeping low to avoid bullets flying through broken windows, Vin dragged Chris to a corner of the hall where neither straight nor ricochet bullets could get him. There Vin put Chris on his side and quickly checked him out. Chris was still unconscious and showed no signs of coming around, his back was burned, but at least he wasn’t bleeding and his limbs weren’t broken. Right now Vin could do nothing for him. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed Buck. When Buck answered the call, he barked, interrupting Buck’s greeting, “It’s Vin. The ranch is under attack. Chris is hurt bad.”

“Hang in there for half an hour, we’ll be there,” Buck answered, no wasting time and words.

“Roger.”

Vin put the cell back in his pocket and crawled to the gun safe. He unlocked it and took his rifle and ammo, then crawled to one of the windows facing the front elevation and carefully peered out. There was no one on the driveway, and the gunfire was continuing from the ambush. Vin had time to take care of his needs. He pulled off his jacket, then took off his shirt and tightly bandaged the wound on his thigh with it. He was losing too much blood, and he was afraid he might pass out before a help arrive. He prepared the rifle to fire and peered out again, just in time to see one of the assassins appear from behind the line of the bush along the driveway. Vin aimed and took out the assassin, then sent a few bullets in the bush nearby. He was firing and reloading, losing count of bullets and time. Suddenly his gut feeling made him turn around, and he saw the assassin standing in the den. He had probably entered through the glass door there, breaking it under cover of the gunfight. At the speed of light Vin drew his SIG and fired, the assassin fell down dead, his shot going into the ceiling. Vin swore under his breath. If they were going to surround him, he had a very slim chance of making it, but he had to make it, he had no choice. He had to save Chris. He reloaded the rifle and stuck it out of the window ready to fire again. The gunfire ceased for a moment, and his keen ears caught a new sound - the sound of an approaching chopper. At first he couldn’t believe it was true, he was afraid his mind had started to play tricks on him, but soon there was no mistake. A chopper hovered over the driveway, and the Police started to give orders through the speaker. After the chopper lowered, almost touching the ground, Buck jumped out and ran toward the house. Vin put down the rifle and leaned weakly against the wall. 

The battered front door swung open, and Buck ran inside. 

“Vin! Chris!” he called, staring in horror at the battlefield that once was a hall. 

“Here,” Vin cracked.

Buck looked in the direction of the sound and saw him sitting under the window, the piles of debris and shells surrounding him. 

“Vin! Are you all right?” Buck already knew that was a stupid question, the shirt wrapped around Vin’s thigh was soaked with blood. 

“I’m fine. Chris is bad.”

Vin pointed to the corner where Chris was lying, and Buck hurried there. 

“Still out but alive,” Buck said after checking his old friend. “What happened?”

“His car was mined.”

“Damn.”

“How did you manage to get a chopper?” 

“Called Travis just after your call; he arranged it. You know, being feds have some benefits.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been enjoying those benefits the whole morning.”

Buck chuckled, crouching beside Vin. “The boys and an ambulance are on the way here. Hold on a bit.”

Vin nodded and pushed his SIG, Chris’ ‘Beretta’ and the rifle toward Buck. “Keep it. They all were fired.”

Buck nodded and took the weapons. 

The front door opened and a police officer entered inside. 

“Here,” Buck called him and introduced Vin. “This is Agent Tanner.”

The officer stared at Vin, a hint of disbelief flashing in his eyes: he obviously hadn’t expect to find out that the deadly shooter who defended the ranch was a skinny young man. Regaining self-control, he said to Vin, “Captain Johns. We arrested the men who attacked you.”

“How many?” 

“Three, all wounded. And three more are dead, including that one at the yard.”

“One is there,” Vin nodded toward the den.

The officer looked at the corpse in the den, then surveyed the shattered house. “How did you manage to do it, Agent Tanner?”

“They were gonna kill Chris,” Vin answered simply. 

The scream of sirens filled the air, and soon two ambulances drove into the driveway followed by police cars and the cars of the Team 7 members. Buck stepped outside and called paramedics. They ran into the house carrying a stretcher and headed to Vin. 

“Chris first,” he said pointing to Chris’ body.

“You’re bleeding,” the paramedic tried to argue, but Vin cut him off, “I’m fine. Go to him.”

The paramedics started working on Chris. Vin tried to listen to their conversation but they were using medical terms and he didn’t understand them well, besides he had suddenly become dizzy. The second unit of paramedics entered the house and approached him. He was laid on a stretcher, and one of paramedics started to take his vitals. 

“The BP is 85/60, he needs fluids, I’m starting the IV.”

“Do it. His leg looks pretty bad, the bullet is still in. He is still bleeding - have to make a tourniquet. Give him a shot of morphine and haemostatic.”

One more person approached the stretcher, and Vin recognized Nathan.

Nathan crouched beside Vin and squeezed his hand. “Hold on, Vin.”

“How’s Chris?”

“They think he is in a coma because of a contusion,” Nathan answered honesty, he had never lied to Vin.

Vin forced himself to stay calm. “Ride with him. Be with him.”

“Vin, you need help too…”

“They’re helping me. Go to Chris and never leave him. He shouldn’t be alone.”

Vin didn’t know why it was so important, but he felt it was. He wanted to be with Chris himself, but the damned paramedics kept him pinned to the stretcher. He tried to get up, but Nathan put his hands on his shoulders and forced him back. 

“Lay still. I’ll go with Chris, but you let these guys take care of you. Okay?”

Vin nodded, and Nathan left. Vin saw him leaning over Chris, he exchanged a few words with paramedics there, and then they headed to the front door carrying a stretcher with Chris. 

“You’re next,” the paramedic said to Vin. 

Vin tried to answer but the morphine took over him and he lost control over his body. He was taken outside, where the once quiet yard of the ranch was filled with activity: the Police and the Forensic were examining the scene, more paramedics were working on wounded assassins, a few corpses were taken in the coroner’s wagon. Josiah, JD and Ezra surrounded the stretcher and talked to Vin, but he couldn’t make out their words. He was placed inside the ambulance, and Ezra slipped inside before the door was shut. With the siren howling, the ambulance rushed to Denver. 

7777777

Chris was burning, the licks of flame had enveloped his body turning his flesh into ashes. He cried but no sound escaped his mouth, only the roar of flame was sounding in his ears. He had no sense of time so he didn’t know if that agony lasted a moment or an eternity. Then he heard voices talking to him, calling him, but he couldn’t make out words, and he stopped paying attention to them. Then he heard another voice, and he recognized it immediately. It was Sarah, and then he understood – that was how it was supposed to be. His family had died in a bomb blast, and the flames had burned them, leaving only ashes. That death was intended for him too, though he'd had to wait four years to share the fate of his family. Now his time had come. He was going to join his family in the same way they were taken from him. Supreme justice was done, and he stopped resisting. He hurried toward Sarah, into the depth of the flame. 

7777777

Vin slowly returned to consciousness. His head hurt, and at the same time he couldn’t feel the rest of his body. Then the sensitivity returned, and he instantly regretted it. Now his body hurt, too, and his right thigh seemed to be the center of pain. Vin turned his head and a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. 

“Here, take it,” the voice said, and something cold touched his lips.

Vin opened his mouth, and an ice cheep slipped in. Vin sucked greedily, the cold moisture bringing relief. His mind cleared a bit, and he wondered about the person beside him. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t remember to whom it belonged. Vin wasn’t sure he was ready to open his eyes and look yet. Finally, he decided that little effort wouldn’t make him sick and cautiously opened his eyes. He was lying on a narrow bed, and the blue curtain surrounded him truly signaled he was in hospital. The beeping sound of the heart monitor penetrated the roar in his ears confirming that guess. 

“Vin?” that voice again, this time accompanied by a blurred face leaned over him. Vin blinked trying to clear his vision and finally recognized the man. 

“Ezra,” he exhaled. 

“Congratulations, Mr. Tanner, you are on the road to recovery,” the reply followed. 

The left corner of Vin’s mouth lifted in a weak smile. He closed his eyes and tried to sort out his thoughts. He was hurt, he was in hospital and he had undergone surgery. His sickness definitely was a consequence of anesthesia as he had experienced it once or twice before. But why Ezra was with him, not Chris? Where was Chris? That thought triggered something in his mind, and he remembered the explosion and shooting at the ranch. His eyes flew open, and his fingers gripped the bedrails trying to force his body to sit up. 

“Easy, Vin,” Ezra was there again, pushing him back on the pillow. 

“Chris! Where’s Chris?”

“He is here in the hospital. Doctors are taking care of him. So now relax and lay still. The doctor removed the bullet from your leg but he isn’t very happy about the wound. My limited medical knowledge doesn’t allow me to reproduce his words correct, but that is something about your femur, the bullet damaged it and the bone fragments are still in the wound.”

Vin didn’t listen to him, his own condition wasn’t of interest to him as all he was able to think about was Chris. Chris was in danger, he knew it despite Ezra’s reassuring. He tried to remember the events at the ranch. Nathan said to him that Chris was in a coma following the blast. 

“Is he still out?” Vin asked.

Ezra hesitated but decided to give a direct answer. “Yes. Coma.”

Chris wasn’t going to come out of that coma, to fight for his life. Vin didn’t know why, but he was sure of it. Chris was slipping out of this world. 

“I should see him,” Vin stated.

“Vin, you can’t…”

Vin looked into Ezra’s eyes. “He can't make it. I have to be with him. I have to save him.”

Something in Vin’s eyes made Ezra believe him. Vin always could sense Chris, and the connection between them was something that Team 7 had come to rely upon. Ezra didn’t argue anymore. 

“I’ll find some clothes and a wheelchair for you, and take you to him.”

7777777

Ezra pushed the wheelchair with Vin out of the elevator on the floor where Chris was placed. The door to one of the wards was open, and the feverish activity of medical staff there signaled that something was wrong. Vin knew instantly that was Chris’ ward. A moment later he spotted Nathan standing in the hallway. Nathan noticed them too, and hurried to them. 

“What’s wrong?” Vin blurted before Nathan had got any chance to say something about his presence here. There was no time for it. 

“Chris had a seizure. They can’t stabilize him,” Nathan answered.

“I need to see him.”

“Vin, you will interfere with the doctors.”

“They can’t help Chris, right? So I’ll not worsen anything.”

Nathan had nothing to answer Vin’s cold logic. He took the handles of Vin’s wheelchair from Ezra and pushed it forward to the ward. 

Inside the ward chaos reigned. Doctors and nurses darted between the bed and the medical equipment that beeped and flashed furiously. For a moment they stepped aside from Vin’s line of sight, and he was able to see the bed. Chris was lying there, his body arched and shaking uncontrollably. The terrible sight almost made Vin pass out as panic and despair swept over him, taking away his little remaining strength. 

One of the doctors noticed the newcomers and barked, “Who are you? Leave the ward!”

The rough voice cleared Vin’s mind and forced him into action. With great difficulty he got up and hobbled to the bed. “He needs me,” Vin stated flatly. 

“Look, we have no time for stupidity now. This man is in critical condition, and you aren’t up for walking,” the doctor said eyeing Vin’s ashen face.

“He needs me,” Vin repeated stubbornly and made another step. He was at the bed now, Chris was before him. Chris’ head was thrown back, his eyes were opened slightly, but no sign of consciousness was there. 

“Chris!” a half-cry, half-sob escaped Vin’s lips. 

The doctor turned to Nathan with a clear intention of ordering him to take the young man away, but the shout of another doctor, who was monitoring the equipment, stopped him.

“Seizure decreasing! He's calming down!”

“Chris!” Vin called. He collapsed on the bed and took Chris’ fingers into his hand. 

Now even the human’s eyes could notice what the machines had registered earlier – Chris’ body relaxing. The nurse deftly stuck the IV, which had torn out during the seizure, back into Chris’ arm, and the drugs flowed into Chris’ vein. 

“Chris, don’t you dare leave me, do you hear me? Come back to me, I won’t let you go. Your place is here,” Vin kept talking to Chris without noticing the activity around him. His fingers slipped up to Chris’ forearm and squeezed it in their handshake. “Chris, come back to me.” 

The doctor didn’t try to move Vin away anymore. No one knew what had happened and why his presence, voice and touch had such a profound effect on the patient, but they hastened to take advantage of this. More drugs were added into the IV, the equipment was rehooked and Chris’ vitals were taken. When Chris was finally stable and out of danger, the medical staff left the ward. Chris’ doctor found Nathan in the hall and had a talk with him, then returned to the ward. Vin was still sitting on the bed holding Chris’ hand and quietly talking to him.

“Mr. Tanner?” the doctor called.

Vin raised his eyes, and the doctor was stunned by the intensity of his look. 

“My name is Doctor Gordon. You should return to your ward and take a rest.”

“I can’t leave Chris.”

“Mr. Larabee is stable now. Your leg needs treatment and you can’t sit here.”

“To hell with the leg. Chris can’t fight for his life alone. He's too weak.”

“We’re doing everything…”

“It isn’t enough! I’m his connection to this world, and I have to be with him.”

Doctor Gordon couldn’t argue the fact that this young man had a strong effect on his patient. Perhaps, he really was the only chance for Chris to come out of his coma.

“I’ll talk to your doctor,” he said.

Vin didn’t listen to him, his whole attention was on Chris again. 

7777777

Chris was floating in the gray nothingness. He felt no pain anymore; his body was as light as a feather. Sarah called to him again, and now Chris was able to see her – a glowing silhouette of the woman he loved, and Adam was standing beside her holding her hand. He hurried to them, calling their names. He was so close, he almost reached them, almost touched their welcoming hands, when somebody called him back. He stopped, puzzled. That new voice was familiar, too. Its owner was important to him, as much as his lost and newfound family. He looked at Sarah and noticed that her silhouette had begun to blur. 

“No!” he cried and rushed forward, but something warm grabbed his hand stopping him. Vin, he realized, that was Vin, and he wouldn't let him go. But he had to join his family, they had been waiting for him for so long. He fought Vin’s grip but it became firmer and he couldn’t get free, but did he really want to break free? Did he really want to leave Vin? He cried in frustration when he realized the answer. He wanted to be with Vin, but he had to join his family. He looked at Sarah, but her beloved face was almost invisible in the mist enveloped her. Then he turned his head to see Vin, and for a brief moment he made him out sitting in a white room, his face pale and haggard, his sunken eyes filled with pain and despair, and his lips moving calling his name. Chris was shaken by this sight, and his soul rushed to Vin, into the pain filled world. 

7777777

Vin had lost track of time sitting at Chris’ bed. Time meant nothing in a world where seconds were measured by the beeping of a heart monitor. He was sitting here listening to this sound, looking at Chris’ pale face, holding his lifeless hand and talking to him. They had never talked much before, but now Vin used his voice to reach Chris, wherever his spirit was wandering now. To reach Chris was the only thing that mattered. Vin paid no attention to anything else, ignoring people who tried to make him leave his place and the pain in his right thigh. That pain had sent stabs of agony through his whole body almost making him pass out, but he fought the weakness with willpower of steel. 

The shiver ran down his spine, and Vin idly wondered why here was so cold in the ward, but all thoughts about it flew out his mind when Chris’ hand twisted in his fingers. 

“Chris?” Vin called peering at his face.

Chris’ eyelids fluttered. Vin convulsively squeezed his hand and he was almost sure that he felt the weak response of Chris’ fingers. The next moment the ward was filled with people, and the medical staff once again surrounded Chris’ bed. 

“He’s coming round,” someone said, and Vin felt himself dizzy. He swayed, and someone’s hands grabbed him. He was pulled off Chris and laid on a spare bed placed in the ward. Bile rose in his throat and he became sick, the spasms of nausea mixing with the shivers of cold. Someone’s hands held his head over a basin, other hands were touching and probing his body, then someone undressed his wound and Vin cried when he was touched there. Vin heard curses and orders, then he felt as the needle was stuck into the inside of his elbow. The spasms decreased, and he leaned back on the pillow and turned his head trying to see Chris, but the other bed was surrounded by people. Failing to make out what was going on there, he turned his attention to the activity around him. He recognized Doctor Williams, his attending doctor. Williams was examining Vin's wound and sure as hell didn’t like what he was seeing. He pressed on the wound, and a hot wave of pure agony swept over Vin’s body, carrying him away into the darkness. 

7777777

Chris opened his eyes. He was lying in the room he had seen in his dream. Or was it a dream? He didn’t know where he had returned from. He looked around and realized he was in a hospital. Unknown people surrounded him, and Vin wasn’t among them. Chris tried to raise his head searching for Vin, but he had no strength to do it, his body was too weak and didn’t want to obey him. Then he forced his lips to move, and a single word escaped them, “Vin?”

“He is here,” the unfamiliar voice answered. “Welcome back, Mr. Larabee.”

Chris tried to ask something, but against his will, his eyes closed and he drifted into a healing sleep. 

When he woke, the ward was quiet and dimmed. He looked around and noticed the familiar lanky figure reclining in the chair beside the bed. “Buck,” Chris called, his voice was barely audible whisper. 

Buck stirred and opened his eyes, his lips stretched into a wide smile when he saw Chris staring at him.

“Hi, pard, welcome back!” he greeted Chris.

“What happened? Why am I here?”

“The ranch was attacked, you got a concussion and burns. Made us worried for a couple of days.”

“Vin?”

Buck was slow to respond, and Chris felt as the cold fingers of fear squeezed his heart. 

“He is there,” Buck answered finally. “You can see him.”

Buck pointed behind his back, and Chris tried to raise his head. Bile rose in his throat, but he fought the nausea back. Buck stepped up to him and gently helped him to get his head up. Chris saw another bed, the curtain around it was open, and in a dim light Chris made out Vin lying there. His eyes were closed, his brown hair spread over the pillow, his slim body was covered with a pile of blankets, only his right arm was lying above the covers, and the needle of an IV was stuck in it. He seemed to be asleep, but Chris knew instinctively that it wasn’t a normal sleep.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked Buck. 

“Sepsis. He got shot in his thigh, but after the first surgery he didn’t let them treat his wound. He was sitting here with you ‘till you came out of the coma. The wound became inflamed, he had something wrong with his bone tissue. They're preparing him for surgery tomorrow morning, trying to stabilize him.”

The pain squeezed Chris’ chest. Vin had saved him but had put his own life in danger in the process. As always. Vin was the only reason he was still alive. Chris looked at Vin’s face whitening in the dimness, and a tear rolled down his cheek. 

7777777

Vin was unconscious for a few days. He underwent surgery, and drainage was put into the wound, liters of antibiotics and other drugs were poured into his veins. The fever and painkillers made him unaware of his surrounding. From time to time he became restless and tried to pull out the IV and nasal cannula while trying to get up. The boys tried to calm him down during those periods but little helped. Finally, they found that Vin relaxed when Ezra started to read aloud poetry, so they kept a pile of books on the bedside table. 

One day Doctor Gordon allowed Chris to get up. Swaying from weakness, he overcame the few feet separating him from Vin and sat on the edge of Vin’s bed. He stretched out his hand and stroked Vin’s ashen cheek, smoothed his tangled hair. Vin relaxed under his touch, a slight smile appearing on his lips, and Chris, looking around to make sure they were alone, tenderly kissed him. 

Either because Chris was at his side or the drugs had finally done their job, Vin got better soon after. The next morning the fever had gone and he woke with a clear head. He opened his eyes and saw Chris sitting on his bed.

“Hi, Cowboy,” Vin drawled hoarsely.

Chris smiled and answered, “Hi yourself.”

“Glad to see you up.”

“Would love to say same about you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to put your life in danger because of me.”

“Why do I need life without you?”

Chris’ breath caught in his throat. “What did I do to deserve such a treasure as you, Vin?”

“Don’t know. But I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Chris leaned over and touched Vin’s lips with his own. Vin answered the kiss, his skinny hands flying up and grabbing Chris’ bony shoulders, pulling him closer and not letting him go. 

The sound of approaching footsteps made them back away from each other. The door of the ward opened, and Doctor Williams entered, followed by a nurse. He smiled broadly at seeing Vin awake. 

“Good morning, young man. How are you feeling?”

Vin pondered the answer. 

“Fine,” he said finally, and that was true. “But I'm starving.”

“All in good time. First I have to examine you, and Peggy will take your vitals. Mr. Larabee, please return to your own bed.”

Chris’ cheeks flushed slightly, he quickly got up and stepped aside. The doctor threw the blanket off Vin and examined his wound. The area around it wasn’t an angry red anymore, and the doctor was pleased. Vin’s vitals also were good. 

“The worst is over,” Doctor Williams summed up the examination. “But you have a long road to recovery ahead. Bed rest for at least two weeks, continuation of medical treatment to eliminate the effects of infection, special high-calorie diet for recuperation.”

“I can’t be in hospital for two weeks!” Vin protested.

“You will be here even longer, young man. You will stand on your feet gradually, but a lot of work with a physiotherapist is waiting for you.”

Vin’s mood dropped. The doctor noticed it and interrupted further objections, “It isn’t a subject for discussion, young man. I made the mistake of allowing you to break the hospital rules once already, and this was the result.”

When the doctor and a nurse left the ward, Chris sat on Vin’s bed again. 

“Don’t look so miserable. The main thing is you’re going to be well, no need to rush.” 

“You know I hate hospitals.” 

Chris nodded and squeezed Vin’s forearm. 

“What about you?” Vin asked putting his discontent aside. 

“My head is fine, only a headache from time to time, and the burns are healing well. Doc is going to watch me for a few days and then release me.” 

The door opened again, and the nurse delivered their breakfast. Vin hated hospital food as much as hospitals, but he was really hungry and dug into his meal. Chris ate with much less enthusiasm, forcing himself to swallow every bite over the nausea still haunting him, but his eyes enjoyed the spectacle of seeing Vin eat. 

They were halfway through their breakfast, when Buck entered the ward. Seeing Vin sitting in bed and eating, he beamed and exclaimed, “Hey Junior, I’ll be damned if you aren’t looking pretty!” 

With two huge steps he covered the distance between the door and Vin’s bed and hugged Vin tightly. Vin gasped and tried to break free. “Enough, Bucklin, I ain’t one of your ladies.”

“Oh yeah, you’re the only Vin.”

Vin flushed and Chris chuckled. Buck stepped back and sat in the chair between the beds. 

“You boys made us worried. Don’t try to repeat any more stunts like these,” he said, and his voice was serious this time. 

“How's the investigation on the attack on the ranch going?” Chris asked. 

“Josiah and Ezra are fully on it. As far as we know, someone in the ATF hacked the agents’ database and gave your home address to the asshole who hired assassins. Since Vin is still listed at his old address in Purgatorio, they didn’t know that you’re not living alone. That was their first mistake. The second mistake was to run into Junior. Damn, boy, you were good! By the way, the feds want to question you as soon as you’re up.” 

“They can do it today.”

“Are you sure?”

Vin nodded. “The sooner the better. They failed to kill Chris then and may try again.”

“Don’t worry about that. This part of the hospital is closely guarded.”

“Why were they after me?” Chris asked.

“There are two options,” Buck said. “Either it’s personal, or…”

“We hit something big working on the last case,” Chris finished.

“Exactly. And Josiah thinks the last. Something so big that its tentacles got inside the ATF. So the best thing we can do now is to keep digging into our case, and the boys are working 24/7 doing it.” 

“Give me updates.”

Buck started informing Chris. Vin put aside the tray with the empty dishes and leaned back on the pillows. He tried to follow the conversation but fatigue took over him, and he drifted asleep. He was awakened a few hours later by the arrival a group of agents wanting to question him. There were a couple of FBI agents, an ATF agent and Ezra. After the introductions, they sat around the bed staring at Vin. Vin felt himself uncomfortable under their gazes, the thought that he probably looked like a scarecrow occupying his mind. He lowered his eyes and nervously smoothed the blanket over his knees.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Tanner, our colleagues here just couldn’t get used to the idea that you are the same deadly shooter who killed four assassins. You are slightly out of the cliche image of this type,” Ezra drawled.

“Oh,” was all Vin was able to say.

“So let’s start, gentlemen,” Ezra said turning to the agents. “Mr. Tanner isn’t up for a long conversation.” 

The questioning began. Vin tried to remember the attack on the ranch as accurately as possible, intending to give exhaustive answers. He was nervous waiting for the only question he didn’t want to answer: what was he doing at the ranch in the early morning. Sure as hell the cops had searched the ranch and found out that Chris and he were using the same bedroom. He wasn’t ashamed of his relationship with Chris, not at all, but their relationship was a personal thing, not a subject of a police investigation or, even worse, for gossip. Finally, one of the FBI agents asked him this question. 

Vin licked his lips nervously and answered, “I often spend time at the ranch, helping with work there.”

“And Senior Agent Larabee has entrusted you with the code for the gun safe?”

“Hell yes. I keep my own weapons there, too.”

Thereon the questions about his life on the ranch ran out. Vin glanced at Ezra puzzled, and Ezra furtively winked at him. When the questioning ended and the agents left the ward, Ezra paused here and explained, “I have no time to tell you, Mr. Tanner. You don’t have to worry about your little secret. Mr. Wilmington did a great job to keep mouths of the police officers shut, and A. D. Travis has taken appropriate action with the ATF.” 

“Thanks, Ez.”

Ezra saluted him and left.

7777777

Vin was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. He knew the damn ceiling too well and he was hoping he had seen it for the last time. Doctor Williams had promised to release him today. If the tests were fine. If he was satisfied with Vin’s progress. If, if, if. Vin moaned in frustration. He was fed up with hospital. After Chris was released, being here became unbearable. He craved to be home, away from people, the hospital regime, smells, food, everything. His dismal mood had affected his recovery, and a few days after he got out of bed, the doctor gave up and agreed to let him go home. 

The door opened, and Doctor Williams entered the ward holding a pile of papers in his hand. “Good morning, Vin.”

“Morning.”

“I read your test results, they are within normal limits. Show me your leg.”

Vin obeyed, and the doctor examined it carefully. Finally, he straightened and gave his verdict, “I release you, but you have to visit the hospital once per week and do everything that I and the physiotherapist tell you. No extra activity or putting weight on your right leg. If anything feels out of normal – immediately come to me. Get it?”

“Yes, doc.”

“Fine. Will Chris take you out of the hospital?”

Vin nodded.

“When he arrives, send him to me. I’ll give him the instructions and your papers.”

As soon as the doctor was gone, Vin got up and hastily threw off the hospital garment, then pulled on his own clothes, which Chris had brought to him earlier. Putting the sweats on turned into an ordeal, and he realized he had no chance dealing with socks and sneakers. He put on the t-shirt and, having finished with his dressing for a while, he began to gather his belongings. He carefully packed the books of poetry brought by the boys, though he suspected that they were mostly from Ezra’s collection. He had read them all in the past weeks and wanted to ask Ezra to give him more. He had plenty of free time ahead; the doctor said his sick leave would last at least another month. 

He was still packing when Chris arrived. Apparently Chris had already visited Doctor Williams because he had a package with drugs in his hand. 

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Almost,” Vin said zipping the bag. “Need a help with my feet.”

“Sure.”

Vin sat on the bed, and Chris knelt before him and deftly put socks and sneakers on his feet, then helped him to get up. The orderly brought a wheelchair and Vin was seated in it. Chris took his bag, and they left the ward. On their way to the elevator they met Doctor Williams.

“Get well, Vin,” he wished parting.

“Thanks, doc.”

A few minutes later they were in the parking lot near Chris’ RAM. Chris opened the passenger door and turned to Vin. 

“Let me help you.”

Vin didn’t argue, instead he raised his arms and put his hands on Chris’ shoulders. Chris embraced his waist and pulled him to his feet, taking the weight of Vin’s body on himself, then led Vin to the RAM and seated him in. Closing the door, he rounded the car and got in the driver's seat, throwing the bag behind him. 

“Ready?” 

Vin nodded and fastened his seatbelt. Chris started the engine and drove the RAM out of the city. Vin turned his head to the side and looked through the window at the familiar landscape. Involuntary, he sighed heavily.

“Something wrong?” Chris asked.

“Just thinking about the ranch. The house is ruined. It'll need a lot of work to restore it.”

“Don’t worry. Windows and plaster are a small price to pay for being alive.”

“Yeah.” 

Vin closed his eyes. He was tired, although he had done almost nothing. The smooth drive of the RAM lulling him, and he drifted asleep. The stopping of the car awakened him, he opened his eyes and stared forward. His first thought was that Chris had brought him to someone else's house, but then he recognized the landscape. The house was definitely theirs, but it was repaired. New windows shone in the sunlight, the walls were freshly painted, and the wooden handrails and steps had no traces of bullets. 

Chris laughed, watching his reaction. 

“But who? When? Why?” Vin stammered.

“The boys while we were in hospital. By the time I was released they had almost finished inside and they needed only one more weekend to do the jobs outside. Why they did it – reckon, because they love us.”

“None of you said anything to me.”

“I wanted to surprise you. C’mon, you should see what the boys did inside.”

Chris left the RAM and helped Vin to get out. Putting Vin’s right arm on his shoulders and wrapping his left arm around Vin’s waist, he led Vin to the house. They entered inside, and Vin gasped. The boys really had done a great job. It seemed like they knew Chris’ and Vin’s tastes perfectly and had followed them carefully. 

“Aw hell,” was all Vin was able to say.

“Uhu. You need to rest, the bedroom or den?”

“The den.”

Chris led him there and lowered him down onto the couch. Vin lay down, stretching out his bad leg, and Chris sat beside him, putting Vin’s head on his lap and stroking his hair. Vin sighed contentedly.

“I missed that so much,” he admitted.

“Well, since the gang that tried to kill us has been arrested and I have left a few days of a sick leave, we finally have some time for ourselves.”

END


End file.
